Page 59 of Sinadim

Sinadim’s endurance had left the war chief humbled. In awe. Caught up in the storm of hormones that drew him into a competition he had no hope of winning, but couldn’t resist.

This was a thing to savor.

Because it wouldn’t last forever.

And the moons had already risen three times.

She was close.

He glanced back, toward their nest. Icy blue eyes critical as he watched his prince sleep, a dainty female slung over his chest.

They’d had her in every possible way. Shared sweat and slick and cum without discretion or shame.

It wasn’t enough.

He wanted it.

This.

With… him.

A female—maybe two—to share between them. Her every need tended while she whelped hybrid soldiers for them.

They didn’t need dozens of cunts set in a tidy line, primed to shit out hybrids on a clock. Only a few would suffice—the last three months were proof enough of that.

A small harem shared between brothers could put an end to the ceaseless Anhur wars. Redistribute the females amongst the lower classes, and end the countless uprisings of males born like himself. Gutter trash with nothing in their futures but an endless bachelorhood. Doomed to die before their peasant genes could be passed to the next generation.

And Sinadim could be their champion.

A prince for the people.

Sinadim was destined for greatness—Balkazar could taste it. The scent of something profound never left his sinuses.

But the prince merely nodded when Balkazar brought it up. Neither agreeing nor disagreeing, lips tight and pressed thin, he’d simply continued to indulge himself between sweet Omega thighs at the mention of such a revolution.

A tiny mewl called his attention back to the nest.

“Such a greedy girl,” Sinadim hummed, sleepy. Stretching as movement shifted the heavy nest where it was bunched around his thighs.

Balkazar watched as she caught the prince’s cock between her lips and swallowed him to the root, taking every inch without so much as a hiccup of complaint. Left hand darting down, the war chief settled in to watch. Stroking himself back to life at the sight of such devotion to their prince.

It was a thing of raw beauty, the sight of Sinadim’s cock filling a tight Omega throat. One that brought Balkazar to the edge of madness no matter how often he’d seen it. Drifting closer, growing bold, the war chief entered their nest on the balls of his feet. Silent. Entranced. Blue eyes seeking green, he gathered the wisps of hair concealing her face and held it back so the prince might enjoy the view, just as he was.

Without lifting a finger.

“Get him ready for you, slut,” Balkazar growled, pushing her down. And, without tearing his eyes away from those that shone a hazy green, Balkazar set his cock between the plump globes of her ass. Grinding away beneath her crooked tail, teasing her cunt with a hint of more. “Get your prince nice and wet with your throat, and I’ll let you have his knot.”

She mewled, knees spreading to accommodate the male at her back.

But Sinadim had other intentions. “Turn around,” he crooned, gruff and low. Pulling her off his dick, he guided her through a careful spin. “Give the war chief a taste of that sweet Omega cream.”

She gasped, head thrown back against Sinadim’s chest, for it was her turn to take a handful of Balkazar’s hair, and she did so with the sort of desperate greed that made the war chief gush. Directing him, she set his lips to her breast.

“Suck it,” she whispered, making a fist against his scalp. The fingers of her free hand kneaded and pulled at the other nipple until a drop of golden essence beaded at the tip. “Drink it all up.”

Balkazar didn’t hesitate. Setting his lips, he pulled that puffy nipple between his teeth and forced it against the roof of his mouth. Suckling in heavy pulls until a tiny gush flooded his palate.

Groaning, she shuddered as the prince impaled her from the back. Stuffing her cunt with his royal length, her rounded belly bumped the war chief’s chest.